


Go As You Aren't Day

by eli



Category: The Unusuals
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 20:22:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eli/pseuds/eli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein a mother really is the best protector, a brilliant crime boss proves everyone is dumb, and we find out how many detectives it takes to tie a bow tie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Go As You Aren't Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heywilma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heywilma/gifts).



It was going to happen sooner or later. The 2nd didn't cover the shiniest parts of the city—bodies were usually found slumped behind dumpsters, not floating in a rooftop pool—but like didn't always stick to like and there were plenty who really liked to mix things up. 

"I know that." Casey aimed a half-hearted slap at Jason's feet propped next to where she'd sat on his desk and put her back to the rest of the squad room. "You think I don't know there's not actually a bubble of privilege keeping the rich assholes from the poor ones?"

Jason leaned his chair further back and took another slow sip of his coffee while contemplating face, and specifically the flash of emotions that she was doing a crap job of masking with her smirk. "I think you're pissed that the sarge needs you to step back inside that bubble." Her mouth twisted further, in just the wrong way, and he knew he didn't get that quite right. "No, it's not stepping back in that's got you worked up; it's that we're going to see you step back in."

Casey's face didn't telegraph a thing before her foot swung out, but he'd already put all four legs of his chair back on solid ground. When he leaned in, she braced her hands on the desk but didn't shift away and he kept his voice low, just partners keeping a trust.

"You also know that nobody cares, right?" 

Her eyes rolled even as she let out a rough sigh. "I know they say they don't. But I also know they've only seen me like this." And her hands twitched up to gesture at her button-down, empty holster, shield. "Detective Shraeger."

Jason jumped on the opening. "Nuh, uh," he said. "I've seen you other ways."

And that was the right button, getting him the patented Shraeger eyebrow of disdain. "Hooker heels and fake boobs don't count."

He let his own eyebrows go up. "But that dress did? I need to go to more uptown parties."

A surprised laugh made her lean back and shake her head. "Fuck you, Walsh," she said, but the smile stuck around.

He grinned back at her. And when Delahoy called out, "Oh hey, is today 'Tell Walsh to Go Fuck Himself' day?" they answered together, "Not for you."

**

Most people probably thought gambling parlors went out with Prohibition. But where there was an itch, there was someone willing to scratch, and dice and cards would find any number of places to make a living closer to home than Atlantic City. This time, the home was a swanky one. Invitation-only, tie required. Not quite James Bond, but Jason wasn't surprised to hear from their source that roulette tables were on order for next month.

"How many warehouses do we have in this city?" Beaumont mused. "And how many do you think look like this—" she tapped a finger on the official shots of a dark, shuttered, seen-a-million-before building "—on the outside, and this—" now the blurry glossies of people laughing and drinking around almost a dozen blackjack tables "—on the inside."

"I don't want to know," Banks said. His arms stayed crossed over his chest as he peered at each of the photos Casey was tacking to the board. "Let's just make this one go away as quickly and safely as possible."

"Sin will find a way," Cole pointed out. "Put up a wall, it will create a window."

"Yeah, but the walls in this neighborhood aren't usually hiding wallets this fat," Casey said as she shoved the last pin in, hard, and Jason casually put out a hand to keep the board from tipping over. 

"No one you recognize?" he asked.

Her head jerked in a quick negative.

"Then this should work," Brown said as he came up to stand next to them. 

He frowned out over the group, who immediately shuffled around to find chairs. When everyone was as settled as they would ever get, he announced, "Walsh and Shraeger obviously have lead. But since this isn't a straight-up undercover op, you might all be called on for bit parts. So I want you to clear things quick, keep yourselves as open as possible."

There was some fidgeting, particularly from the corner where Delahoy looked like he was about to voice a thought before Banks not-so-discretely swung his elbow. Delahoy grumbled, but settled. Brown ignored it all, stepped back, and nodded their direction.

"Okay," Jason said. "As you all have heard, thanks to a..." He glanced at Casey, but didn't need the tight set of her mouth to lead him to the next words he chose. "...source who discovered they were over their head, we have clear evidence that there are some new snakes in our part of town. They've been operational under our noses for long enough that they're feeling comfortable and cocky, so we're going to use that to cut their heads off."

Casey cleared her throat and pointed at the middle of the other board, which they'd set up before everyone had started filtering in. 

"This is James Devane. Our source identified him as the gatekeeper." Everyone focused on the slick, sharp-eyed face. "With word of mouth on their side, he's the public face sitting out front, vetting the potentials, and granting or denying access. The key bit of intelligence about Jimmy, here, though, is that according to our brethren in Philadelphia, he's spent the last five years reporting to this man," Casey pointed to the top of the board, "Leo Searcy." 

If Devane was slick, Searcy was style. The cut of his suit was, even to Jason's eye, clearly a couple levels finer. The gray of his hair was silvering just enough to make it clear he was casually yet completely conscious of the image it created. Really, in a way that very few who wanted to could, he looked like he would fit in just fine at the parties Casey spent so much effort ducking.

"Searcy is smart," she went on. "He has a small group of less than a dozen people who appear to have been with him as long as Devane. And he keeps all of his business local, avoiding even the whiff of crossing a state line and putting himself under the federal microscope." That got some murmurs from the group listening, but Casey was focused and ran right over them. "It took Philly PD nearly a year to get a detective undercover. He lasted two months. As soon as they were finally beginning to make their case on Searcy, he packed it all up and—as far as they could tell—completely disappeared."

She paused and rolled her shoulders. "They're also smart enough to targets the people who'll get a kick out of losing a couple thousand, instead of panicking," she said. "Which is where I come in."

There weren't many surprised faces in the room. Then Cole's hand went up.

Casey nodded, and Cole's mouth tightened into an apologetic grimace before he asked, "If they are as smart as the detectives in Philadelphia say, won't they know who you are?"

Jason felt Casey shift beside him, but even as he thought about stepping in, she took a deep breath. "My parents don't broadcast what I do." The faintly bitter edge to her words could be read a number of ways, especially when the broadened it to say, "And I'm not exactly shouting it from the rooftops."

"Chairs are high enough, huh?" Beaumont joked with an open smirk, getting a genuine laugh out of Casey and most of the room.

"Alright, alright, so that's the background. Here's the plan," Brown said. "Shraeger will attend the shindig tomorrow night where we've been told Devane will be trolling for new players." Appreciative murmurs flew through the room for the sarcasm running high on the last word. "Walsh will be with her. We don't know if Devane will bite on the first run, but we know these guys move fast, so I want Beaumont and Cole in there with them as support. No, everyone knows what your wife does, Alvarez," he said before the man could do more than lean forward in his chair.

"Uh, I don't exactly have an outfit that—"

Brown waved Beaumont off. "Support. You two will be there as part of the catering crew."

"Sir?" Cole's hand was up again. When Brown sighed, Cole quickly continued, "Affairs at that high a level must have an equally high level of security. How are we getting into the catering company in such a short period of time?"

Jason had to admit he was impressed that Casey only sort of sounded like she wanted to strangle somebody when she said, "My parents are throwing this party."

**

Tying a bow tie was one of Jason's least favorite activities. Ranked right up there with digging through trash for knives. Everything you touched could maybe kill you. 

"What makes you think I'm any better at this?" Allison snickered, he could hear it, even if he didn't dare take his eyes off his reflection and the strip of fabric he was currently trying to strangle himself with. 

"This never ends well," he muttered.

He felt her hand on his arm, pulling down, and dared to look over at her. Her eyes were still laughing, but her voice was Detective Beaumont calming a panicked parent. "Why don't you just wait until you go get Shraeger? I'm sure she's run into a bow tie or two."

It was the principle of the thing. Showing up half-done just didn't sit right. But when Allison tugged at his arm again, Jason had to admit that creasing this thing any more than it already was wasn't going to help.

"Nervous?" she asked.

Jason sighed, then ducked down to catch a quick kiss from her and shook his head at her smile. "Nah, just going to play dress up with more than half the money in this city."

She pulled him down by the undone tie and gave him another kiss, dirty and quick and enough to make him wish he had another half hour when she growled, "You can take 'em."

**

Casey took one look at him, rolled her eyes, and held out her hand.

"Gimme."

After closing the door, Jason obediently put the tie in her hand and tilted up his chin. 

"That's a different dress," he said as she did something complicated that made him hold very, very still.

"The pumps weren't the only thing hooker about that outfit, Walsh, come on." She twisted one end, pulled the other, and said, "Breathe."

He huffed out a laugh. 

"Gonna have to remember to call me Jason."

"Not my first rodeo, bucko." She stepped back, head tilting. When she nodded in satisfaction, he finally relaxed and gave her a real good look in return.

The dress was blue, with just enough color to not be black, but not a bright screaming "look at me!" shine, either. It skimmed her curves, whispering of silk, and flowed all the way down. The slit that went tastefully up her right leg showed flashes of skin and the black strappy heels that actually put her eye line a couple inches above his. 

"Nice," was all he said. 

Her nose wrinkled and she looked away, the nerves he'd seen when she first opened the door returning to her posture. "Christmas present from my mom last year. She lives in hope."

Jason shrugged. "She's got good taste."

That brought her back to him, a hesitantly pleased smile kicking up one side of her mouth. "Yeah?"

"Oh yeah," he nodded. "Should try it on Davis."

She looked down, smoothing a hand over her stomach. "Not really his color, I don't think."

Jason blinked, then caught the glint in her eyes. He gave her that one with a "Yeah, okay," but then realized, "Where's your gun?"

Casey cocked her left leg, which stayed hidden behind the fabric. 

"Really?"

"If I need to," she said, her voice hard, "I will have no problem kicking the asshole in order to get to my weapon."

He thought about that for a second. "Which is guaranteed to throw at least your mother into a heart attack," he figured.

She gave him a sweet smile that was all lipstick and teeth. "Whatever works, _Jason_."

**

The limo hadn't been glaringly out of place pulled up outside Casey's apartment, just unusual, but it slid up to her parents' building with a sense of belonging. Jason put a hand over both of hers, stilling them. She didn't startle, just took a deep breath, then another. 

"Good?" he asked. 

"Good," she said, then looked at him. And that wasn't her game face.

Jason said the first thing that came into his head. "Your father came to you," he reminded her, keeping his eyes on hers. "His big bad banker friend panicked and your dad thought of you instead of just throwing money at the problem. That says something." He willed her to believe it. "That says he knew you would want to solve the cause, not just fix that one symptom."

Casey blew out a sharp breath and nodded, once, her shoulders settling. 

Getting out of the limo and up into the building was less of an event than Jason had expected. Not that he would ever admit to kind of wanting to experience that whole appear at the top of the staircase so everyone can watch and marvel as you walk down thing. Nope.

He recognized Casey's parents from the pictures, but it was a whole other thing seeing the warmth in her dad's eyes and the way her mom fluttered at her. 

"Thank you," Jason heard Casey's father murmur in her ear as they pressed kisses to each other's cheeks. 

"Don't worry about anything," Casey said just as quietly while Jason stepped up for his turn. 

Walter Shraeger did an admirable job of shaking hands like they'd done it a thousand times before and this was just another hello. Estelle was almost better when she drew him in for an air kiss. 

The real surprise, though, was that it was Estelle who pinned Jason with the look her daughter used on perps who might need a good hit upside the head. 

"She is our only child," was all she said, maintaining her perfect hostess smile. 

"Yes ma'am," he immediately responded, because that message was pretty damn clear. 

"Mom," Casey hissed. "I have a gun, too."

Estelle's smile went a little brittle, but Walter gave them both an approving glance. Casey huffed and pulled Jason off.

"Yes, go ahead and mingle," Estelle called after them. 

"Oh my god," Casey muttered. 

"That wasn't so bad," Jason said, pulling up once they were far enough away that he didn't think forcing Casey to slow down would make her yank him along anyway. "I kinda like your mom."

"Tch."

While Jason did his best not to laugh at that exacerbated sound, Casey continued checking out the rest of the guests. They had both been scanning as Casey had cut them through the room, but even from the side, no longer mixed in with the crowd, there was no sign on Devane. 

"Anything on your watch, Robin?" he asked the air.

_Nothing_ , Cole responded, because he was a wise man and hadn't tried to fight Beaumont for the code names. 

_I've got something_ , Beaumont said. 

Casey tapped Jason's arm, then nodded at the tall windows looking out over the street. He saw Beaumont in the far corner by the wait station in the tailored black uniform of the silent catering staff filtering through the party. She was looking down at her tray, rearranging glasses.

_It's not Devane_ , she added. _It's Searcy._

Jason knew better than to let his face freeze and give away that something unusual had happened, but it was a close thing. Casey was tense beside him. 

_You're certain_ , Brown broke in, his voice crisp, confirming not doubting. 

Yes, sir. 

"Of course," Casey sighed. 

Brown clearly agreed. _Play it as planned._

"Yes, sir," Jason said. 

**

"As planned" went about as well as anyone could expect from the 2nd. 

"I would have rathered that this hadn't come down to pugilism, but I suppose I should thank you for not...is 'shooting up the house' the appropriate phrase, Casey?"

"Yes, _fine_ , mom."

Casey's gun was still concealed under her dress. The house was still in one piece. The only thing that had taken any true damage was Searcy's left eye. And his pride. Jason was really regretting not having the chance to swap his gun for his phone in order to get a picture of Casey planting her fist in the, yes, asshole's face. 

"Couldn't quite resist the chance to get that name on your belt, huh?" he asked as he checked that the cuffs were nice and secure on Searcy's wrists. "I'm sure it'll be real impressive inside: the guy dumb enough to think propositioning Casey Shraeger would be a good idea."

Except for the shiner, Searcy looked as stylish as ever. Even the unexpected jewelry didn't bust his bubble. In fact, he looked like he wanted to stub Jason out under his shoe like a dead smoke. 

The rest of the squad was busy calming and herding the unassaulted guests out to make statements. An amazing number of people had stood around gaping at the takedown, and now needed to be convinced to not create wildly exaggerated stories. But Brown wouldn't be long before he separated out to take full custody, so Jason leaned in and met that disgusted look.

"You more pissed at me, or at yourself, Leo?" 

The glare intensified. Jason smirked. "I was looking forward to playing dress-up some more," he confided. "But I'll have to remember this. Seems just about anything falls out of a perp's mouth when my partner punches them." Still no vocal response, but that didn't stop Jason. "Too bad that usually would end up falling under police brutality," he sighed.

The recording off the wire that Casey had in her bra was going to be a fascinating listen in court. It was going to take a heck of a lot more work to actually bring down the gambling hall—most of it was probably going to be directed by the lawyers while the cops did the leg work, per usual—but if tax evasion was good enough to take Capone's head off the Chicago mafia, this would do as a way to take the head off this little group. 

When Searcy had done nothing more exciting than shadow them around for 20 minutes, Jason had agreed to separate for a bit, see what would happen. Neither of them had expected Searcy to make one more round and close in, offering Casey the chance to have more fun than this party. She had leaned in with far more grace than a fake hooker could have managed, Searcy had taken her arm like the gentleman he wanted to be, but then—and he couldn't claim he slipped—the hand attached to that arm had gone somewhere Casey definitely thought it shouldn't.

"I really didn't like him," she had shrugged when she was standing over Searcy and Jason was choking back a laugh while he holstered his weapon, pulled out his cuffs, and started in on the Miranda. 

Now she and Beaumont were over with Estelle, and Jason was morbidly curious about what could possibly be going down in that group. Not enough to go over and find out. 

Before Jason could make that a lie, Brown arrived with a couple uniforms who immediately took Searcy and marched him out past the women. Casey looked over and quickly separated herself from the girl talk, followed casually by Banks and Delahoy.

"A little unorthodox," Brown said as they came up to them, "but you two did good."

"Thank you, sir," she said, and Jason nodded. 

"Looking good, too, Shraeger," Delahoy said.

It was obviously a genuine compliment, and Banks was nodding beside him. Casey shifted, and Jason wasn't sure how she was going to respond to having her "Detective Shraeger" persona fully cracked. But then Delahoy turned to him, brows lowering.

"You, though. You can't dress like this every day," he said.

Jason frowned. Brown looked just as confused.

"Make us all look bad," Banks agreed. 

The snort from beside Jason made them all look at Casey. "True," she said with wide, earnest eyes that Jason hadn't trusted the first time he'd seen them, but he had to appreciate. "Alvarez might think you were trying to be the pretty one."

_You're keeping the tux, though, right?_

Jason coughed, not at all covering the bark of laughter from Banks. 

"Walsh," Brown said seriously. Jason stopped scanning for Beaumont and looked over, holding his breath until he noticed that Brown's face matched his voice, but his eyes sure didn't. "The department had it made specifically for you," the sarge said, then shrugged, his eyes crinkling. "Might as well see what other use you can get out of it in the future."

_Thank you, sir_ , Beaumont said, and now Jason could see her and her unrepentant grin across the damn room.

Then Casey leaned in. Jason eyed her carefully, but all she did was pat him on the arm and say, "If you need help with the tie, do _not_ ask me."


End file.
